September 17, 2018: I Suck at Blogging

I just realized it’s been about eight months since my last blog post. Wow.

Some updates:

I’ve just finished writing a solid draft of a new novel. It weighs in at about 85,000 words. This one has been written and re-written a lot over the last year or so. I feel it’s finally getting close to the point when I can send it off to beta readers.

Another novel (or long novella?) stands at around 30,000 words.

Both of these projects were delayed by the fact that I wrote short stories (and one novelette) for anthologies.

I realize I no longer want to write short stories or novelettes for anthologies.

I realize that I’m an obsessive perfectionist with my work, and that such an intense perfectionism goes to waste when focused on short stories and novelettes for anthologies.

I’ve partnered with an audiobook narrator to work on an adaptation of Mr. Suicide. The recording is finished, and now I’m writing up various corrections in the narration.

I’m reading a fair bit of dark literary fiction, but not a lot of stuff that would comfortably fit in the horror (or weird fiction) categories.

Over the last year or so, I’ve been reading a lot of Midwestern fiction and local history. (Partly for my own pleasure, partly to better acquaint myself with my regional predecessors, partly as research for the now-completed novel.)

The Cincinnati Reds have proven quite disappointing this year.

The Cincinnati Bengals are, at this early stage, quite promising.

I’ve enjoyed playing slowpitch softball this summer. (My second season.)

I’m only vaguely aware of publishing industry kerfuffles, and I find I’m happier that way.

August marked the tenth anniversary of my first serious attempts at writing. My how time flies.